


Hotel Hottie

by BLKGURLSMUSE



Series: Richonne Lemon Shots [19]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, One Shot Collection, Other, Partying, Tequila, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25810699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLKGURLSMUSE/pseuds/BLKGURLSMUSE
Summary: Rick Grimes, a 27-year-old successful bachelor is taking a much needed 'guy's trip' to Cancun with his besties Tyrese Williams and Abraham Ford. He is hoping for an adventure, but ends up finding so much more…
Relationships: Karen (Walking Dead: Woodbury)/Tyreese Williams, Rick Grimes/Michonne, Rosita Espinosa/Abraham Ford
Series: Richonne Lemon Shots [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/370550
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	Hotel Hottie

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: AU- All Rick POV – Rated-PG13

"Today sucks," I said, shutting the door of my Chevelle hard; Normally I'd never slam it. My housemate and good friend, Abraham Ford, was sitting in a lawn chair in our garage with a cold Budweiser in his hand.

He threw a beer at me, "Yeah. What makes today worse than any other day?"

"It's hot as the devils-balls, and your father is a jackass."

"Nothing new about that." Abe nodded and then took a swig of beer.

"I am so ready to get the hell out of here." I cracked open the can and took a refreshing gulp.

"Amen to that."

I was the proud owner of a bar called Misfits just outside of Atlanta, and prior to that, I tried my hand at flipping houses. That was how Abe and I met. I hired his fathers' contracting company to do the work on my first house, and here we were five years later.

The housing market had gone to shit, but occasionally I still found a good deal. Currently, I had a project going in a part of town that was undergoing a major revitalization. Abe's dad, Harold, had a crew working on the house for me, doing some demolition and remodeling inside as well as adding a large deck in the back yard.

I wanted the work finished before we left for the Labor Day weekend, but he informed me at noon that there wasn't 'a snowball's chance in hell' that it was getting finished. I bitched him out and even left the bar where I was finishing up paperwork to drive over there and try to convince him that he needed more men to get the job done as he promised. The reality was that some jobs just took longer than expected, and there was nothing that could be done. They guys had been slowed down by a thunderstorm that put the deck building behind, and the landscaper was pissed at Harold for some reason, so he was taking his sweet ass time on our project.

I took a swig of my beer and sighed. It was ice cold and refreshing. "How did you beat me home anyway? I thought you were working late."

"I work fast. And I bribed a couple of my guys with a case of beer to stay and get everything finished."

Abe was working on a different project for his father, somewhere across town. It was generally best if the two Ford's didn't work on anything together. They nipped and growled at each other like the two alpha males that they were, and I wondered how Abe's mother and sister had survived living with them.

"Are your bags packed?" I asked him.

"Hell, yes. Flip flops, tank tops, and swim trunks. Good to go."

"That's all your bringing?"

"I threw in a pair of khaki pants and a golf shirt. But I'm not bringing real shoes. The hell with that."

Abe had a thing about not wearing real shoes when he wasn't working. He said his feet were sweaty all day in his steel-toed work boots, and they needed to breathe. He even changed into flip flops as soon as the pictures were done at his sisters' wedding. Tyrese and I gave him shit about it all the time. We told him that someday he was going to meet a woman he had to wear shoes for. Our teasing him generally led into a lot of swearing at each other and an occasional wrestling match, but it was all in good fun.

"Whatever. Freak."

"Are you packed?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "Yeah, that's what I thought, jack-turd. People in houses shouldn't, ah shit what's the saying?"

I laughed. "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"Yeah. That." He was laughing too.

"I'm going to pack now. Ty's picking us up at 10 a.m. and then we'll touch down just about three o'clock."

"Hola, Cancún!"

"Hola, señoritas!" I called as I walked into the house.

Flying into Cancún you could see the ocean, and the landing strip was next to a mangrove. As we stood in the baggage line, I couldn't wait to get on the beach and relax with a cold beer. I could close my eyes and see the palm trees and the bikini-clad women that would be sunning themselves.

There was traffic on the way to the resort, but nothing compared to the stop and go that was so common in Atlanta. Tyrese and Abraham were talking with the shuttle driver, but I was focused on the scenery. We drove past palm trees, rocky terrain, scattered businesses, pieced together shacks, and million-dollar oceanfront resorts. Trucks flew past us and families balanced on motorcycles. It was always an adjustment when I came back to Mexico. It was a different world, and I loved it.

We checked in, accepting the complimentary glass of champagne while they did our paperwork. I loved all-inclusive resorts, there was nothing better than welcoming your guests with a glass of alcohol. We got the wristbands that would allow us access to the resort and all of its amenities, and Abraham started whining about tan lines.

I lost count of the beers that I drank the first-afternoon thanks to Tyrese and Abraham. It seemed like as soon as I had a quarter of a beer gone, another would appear. It was hot as hell, and I didn't want my beer to get warm, so I'd finish the first one and move on to the next. It was a vicious cycle, but I wasn't complaining.

We headed to the room to shower before dinner, and Tyrese called home to check in with his girlfriend. We went to the buffet for dinner, which was good, but it was really just necessary to fuel for our night ahead at the dance club. Abraham had met a girl by the pool and was already plotting his way into her pants. There were some beautiful girls at the resort, but none that really caught my eye.

When we made it to the club, I headed to the bar for the first round. What I found there surprised me for several reasons. First, I was surprised that there was a woman behind the bar because stereotypically, waiters and bartenders at the resorts I'd visited were males. Secondly, her face, perfect, the shape of her sultry eyes, lusciously kissable lips, and mega-watt smile. She's dark-skinned, beautifully so, with long russet braided hair; she looked more like a guest on vacation, not a staff member. On top of that, her voice blew me away. She went from speaking rapid-fire Spanish like a native with the bar staff to dripping southern charm when she took orders from tourists.

Our eyes met and she grinned at me. "What can I get ya'll?"

_Ya'll?_

"Modelo," Tyrese said over my shoulder.

"Two, Please" I added quickly, ordering a beer for myself. Shit. I thought she'd been focused on me.

She put her elbows on the bar and looked into my eyes, "No tequila?"

"Maybe later. Like when you get off work," I laughed, flirting, trying to judge what her eye contact had meant.

"Well," she reached down, grabbing two beers from a cooler and set them on the bar. "I'll be here all night. So, if you're still here at last call, we'll talk."

"Deal," I said with a wink, and then I took my beer and followed Tyrese onto the dance floor.

Tyrese and I spent the evening dancing occasionally, tossing back more beer, and watching Abe 'work' his new friend, Rosita, with drinks. They danced, kissed and made out in the corner, but just before the last call, Abraham joined us, disappointed because Rosita's friends had taken her back to their room. We each grabbed a final beer from the other bartender and stood off to the side drinking.

I'd been up to the bar a few more times throughout the night, but my bartender had been busy, so we'd been eye-fucking and flirting, but we hadn't spoken again. Abraham wanted to come with me to find out if she had a friend. Before I growled at him, Tyrese rolled his eyes.

"Really, Abraham? You want to ruin your chances with Rosita for the rest of the weekend?"

Abraham looked between the two of us and shrugged. "Okay, okay. At least you're going to get some tonight."

"We shall see," I joked. I wasn't going to push it with this girl the first night we met, but I wouldn't mind if we ended up in bed. I nodded at Tyrese, silently thanking him for taking control of Abraham, and we bumped fists as they headed out.

I stood at the end of the bar and waited as she finished up; serving a few drinks and restocking the coolers. With owning a bar, it was hard for me to stay in front of the bar and not step behind to help her because I knew instinctively what she needed to do. She continued, oblivious to me, joking in Spanish with the other bartender and restocking for the next day. Eventually, she turned and saw me, her beautiful face lighting up.

"Well, hello their handsome stranger. I see that you stuck around."

"I did." I couldn't help but smile back at her.

She grabbed a bottle of top-shelf from behind her and set it on the counter, then got two shot glasses, a couple of slices of lime, and the salt shaker. "Tequila?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting the full bottle of Patron.

I reached forward to grab her wrist; if I was going to go for it, I might as well go for broke. "Body shots?"

She laughed, gently extricating her hand from mine and poured the liquor in the shot glasses. "Let's do the introductions first, big guy."

We did the first round of shots, and she said, "Name…?"

"Rick Grimes," I answered automatically. Abraham would kill me if he knew I was giving her my real name, every woman he met at a bar thought his name was Michael. We continued sizing each other up and covered the 'get to know-you basics', where are you from, what are you doing here, etc.

She introduced herself as Michonne King from New Orleans, Louisiana, and surprised me by saying that bartending was only something she did for fun. I don't know what I had thought, but I hadn't expected a businesswoman. She told me that she had worked her way through college behind a bar, and it was a way for her to let off steam. By day, she was a corporate trainer for the hotel chain and was in Mexico for three weeks doing a series of workshops for their staff in the Yucatan Palace Resort. She was between training, having the long weekend off because even though she was in Mexico she was an American employee.

She snuck in the second round of shots before asking me how I came to own Misfits Bar & Grille. I got a little carried away talking about the bar; it was really my pride and joy. I had rebuilt it from a hole in the wall dive bar to a place that frequently had a line of people around the corner waiting to get in on weekend nights. She said it sounded fun and told me she'd stop by the next time she was in Atlanta.

"I would love it you came to the bar. How often do visit Atlanta?"

"Apparently, not often enough." She raised an eyebrow.

Oh, hell yes. I really liked this girl.

She sighed, and then explained that she'd been working out of the States for close to a year. When the three weeks in Mexico were up, she was headed back to New Orleans.

We continued to talk, at first about surface things, who I was traveling, with, how often we each came to Mexico, what were our favorite restaurants, bars, and excursions in and around Cancún. Then she asked about family, and for the first time in a long time when talking about family, I told her the truth. I didn't like to talk about it, in fact, I usually brushed off the question, but I found myself telling her that I didn't have any living family, aside from Tyrese and Abraham. Her eyes looked into mine, and I recognized something in them before she told me that the only remaining family, she had was a brother who she wasn't even close with. She poured another round of shots for us, and our eyes held as we raised the glasses to our lips and tossed them back.

There's a saying, one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor. We'd just done our third shot, so before we hit the floor of the empty bar, I asked her if she had a room at the hotel.

"How forward. Is that how they raise young men in Hot-Lanta?" She grinned. "I have a room here. Let me guess, you want to come back there with me?"

"Well, I'd much rather pass out there than on the dirty floor in this bar."

She tilted her head, then nodded. "Follow me."

She led me through the quiet hotel towards the central bank of elevators. The lobby looked much different in the dark, the moon and halogen lights casting a glow and creating long shadows. There was still the constant sound of the ocean in the background.

We're kissing by the time the door to her room closed, and it was better than I imagined. She was hot, funny, and a damn good kisser. I could be in for a damn good weekend. She pulled away and led me towards the living room where she took a seat in a side chair. I sat across from her on the couch, raising an eyebrow.

"What? We're still getting to know each other," she laughed.

"Ask away," I said, smiling and shaking my head at her. Looking around, I took in her room. It was definitely more of a suite than ours, with the bedrooms separated from the living space and a kitchenette in the corner.

"Tell me about your last girlfriend," she said.

I sighed, and again blurted out things I rarely said to anyone. I told her about my ex, Lori. We'd been together through the final two years of college until she decided she was a lesbian. I had no idea why I was spilling my guts to this woman. I didn't know if it was her or the tequila, but I couldn't stop talking. Lori's revelation had sent me into a tailspin and led to a lot of meaningless sex to prove I was a man, but in the end, she'd become one of my best friends. When I finished, Michonne was looking at me, a little shocked.

"Last boyfriend?" I asked, turning the tables on her.

"No, wait. You haven't had a girlfriend since college?"

"I haven't dated anyone longer than six months since college, no."

As I spoke, she walked to the cabinets and was pulling out shot glasses and then took a bottle of Jarritos, a grapefruit soda, from the small refrigerator. "Wow," she said, returning to her chair. She poured the tequila and Jarritos into the shot glasses. "That requires more tequila."

I laughed as she handed me one of the glasses. We covered them with our palms and she counted down before we lifted the shots, slammed them on the table, and then drank them down.

"The last boyfriend," I repeated.

"Ugh. Shane Walsh." She rolled her eyes.

"Shane Walsh? Elaborate…" I laughed.

"When we first met in college, LSU crazy fun times on and off immature shenanigans. When we met again two years ago, he was in finance, which is just as boring as it sounds, but he was still charming, and I was lonely. A year later, I found out he'd been cheating with his ex-Andrea-almost the entire time…We're a sad pair, Michonne." She laughed and I laughed along with her.

"So, this meaningless sex, have you gotten it out of your system?"

Oh hell.

I looked at her, with her legs tucked under her in the chair. I wanted more than one night with this girl, that's for sure. I wanted to know her, but there was always the chance she didn't want anything more from me. I looked her in the eyes. Those big pretty doe eyes.

"Yes."

The corner of her mouth lifted. "Good to know."

It took all of two seconds before we were kissing again, and then about five more and we were horizontal on the couch, running our hands all over each other. Sometime later, she went to the bathroom, and when she came back, she stood in front of me, reaching out her hand.

"Let's go to sleep."

"Sleep?" I asked as I took her hand and stood.

"Sleep. I'm tired and kind of drunk. We've got all weekend."

We went into the bedroom, and I stripped down to my boxer briefs. She took off her shorts and her lacy black bra and climbed into bed wearing matching lace panties and her Yucatan Palace Resort t-shirt. She climbed into bed and looked at me expectantly. I followed her under the covers and she leaned up to kiss me, then quickly rolled over and pulled my arm around her.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I whispered, kissing the back of her neck and closing my eyes. I wanted more from her, for us, but she was right, we had all weekend.

I woke up snuggling with Michonne, who was stretched alongside my body, her head on my shoulder. The sun was coming in through the sliding glass door, shining directly on us, and she began to stir.

"Mmm. Hey," she said quietly as she arched her back and stretched her arms over her head.

I smiled back, taking in the view of her. "What are we doing today?"

"Uhm. Breakfast buffet, then laying in the sun."

I was impressed that she hadn't flinched when I said we. "Sounds like a plan."

"Call your friends and see if they've eaten yet."

I glanced at my watch; it was only 8:30 a.m. There wasn't a chance in hell those two were out of bed, and I wasn't sure I wanted to share this woman with them, even over breakfast. I nodded, and she leaned over and kissed me good morning.

Nope. I didn't want to share her at all.

She rolled away and walked towards the bathroom. "Shower and meet me in front of the Sedona in half an hour?"

"Sure." She closed the door behind her, and I flopped back on the bed.

How the hell did shit like this happen to me? Why couldn't I meet someone like her at home? I reluctantly climbed out of bed and pulled on my clothes, seriously considering invading her shower, but I took a deep breath and headed back to my room.

I had been correct in thinking that my friends weren't awake. The room was pitch back from the curtains being drawn, and they were both snoring. They were still out cold after I had showered and gathered some things for the beach. After texting Tyrese to tell him my plans, I made my way to the restaurant.

Michonne kissed my cheek when I greeted her, and I felt like it was going to be a very good day. We at breakfast, laughing that we had almost the same items on our plates from the buffet, and continuing to get to know each other. I was sipping coffee, looking at her across the table, her chin in her hand, and a faraway look on her face.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

She smiled. "I'm thinking that I feel really comfortable with you, and we should get out of here and go to the beach."

I liked the way she glossed over the first part of that sentence. I laughed. "Then, let's go."

We walked around the pool deck and grabbed beach towels from the sports desk as we made our way to the beach. She found some lounge chairs near an umbrella and we laid out our towels. She pulled off her tank top to reveal a sexy white string bikini that was so very stunning. I tried to be conspicuous as I adjusted myself in my swim trunks, and I tried not to stare at her perfect ass while she applied sunscreen. She asked for help, and I gladly rubbed some on her back and shoulders, somehow managing to only kiss her once in the process. She returned the favor, spreading the lotion on my back and teasing me by running her fingers along my waistband. I looked over my shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow, and she just laughed, then stepped away to stretch out on her chair. I laid down, turning my head to face her, and we stayed that way, smiling at each other and talking until she fell asleep.

I walked to the beach bar and got a beer, then found myself standing in the water, watching the waves roll in and out. I sat down after a while, my toes in the water, my ass in the sand, not a care in the world, cold beer in my hand.

Life is good.

* * *

A little while later, the sun disappeared, and I glanced up to see Abraham standing next to me looking down. Tyrese joined him a few seconds later, carrying three beers.

"Dude, where's the girl?" Abraham asked, and from his voice, I knew he was seriously hungover.

I turned my head, looking behind me at Michonne, who was awake and sitting up, smiling at us. I waved. "Right there."

Tyrese grinned and Abe's mouth dropped open. "Shit," he whispered. "You couldn't get away from her?"

The corner of my mouth went up. He was such a player, a whore, dumb, but he was still one of my best friends. "Didn't want to."

"What? Was she that good?"

I growled and Tyrese smacked the back of his head. It was a normal chain reaction in our friendship.

"Shut up, dumbass," Tyrese scolded.

"Shit. What the fuck?" Abraham droned.

I sighed. "Go find Rosita."

"Good idea." He grinned and then wandered away towards the pool.

Tyrese sat down next to me. "Nice girl?"

I nodded, and we sat side by side, drinking our beers and looking out at the water. After a while, Michonne joined us, sitting down in front of me, leaning back between my legs and letting the water lap at her stunning legs. She reached out a hand towards Tyrese.

"Hi. I'm Michonne King."

He took her hand. "Nice to meet you Michonne. I'm Tyrese Williams."

"Where did your other friend go?"

"Big-Red?" he laughed, calling Abraham by the nickname I occasionally called him. "His name's really Abraham. He went to try to get in some girl's pants. It's his mission in life."

She laughed. "You didn't find anyone you wanted to hang out with today?" The way she asked it was so sweet, it wasn't that she wanted him to leave us alone; she genuinely wanted to know.

He smiled. "Karen wouldn't like that. I usually have Rick to keep me company, but looks like he'll be busy this weekend. It's okay though, I just needed to get away from work. I don't mind being on my own."

"Well, if we get separated today, we'll all meet for dinner? Sound good?"

She was adorable, inviting Tyrese to dinner. Shit. I was falling for her. She smelled like coconuts, or maybe it was the drink in her hand, I didn't really care. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and I breathed it in again. I was going have to keep a bottle of Malibu Rum in my desk to get a whiff of coconut and think about her.

Tyrese left after a while, saying he was going to make sure Abraham hadn't gotten arrested. We moved back to the lounge chairs, stretching out and relaxing. Waiters came by off and on, bringing us drinks and saying hello to Michonne. They were all calling me Big Papa, and she said it was because they liked me. I thought it was because I left good tips. Everything was included at the resort, but you got stronger drinks and better service if you tipped. On top of that, I work in the industry; I know how hard they work.

When my stomach was about to growl for lunch, she stood and reached her hand out again, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"Come, let me feed you."

I followed her, hungry for more than food, hoping she felt the same. She made us turkey sandwiches that we ate standing in the kitchenette. Then she winked at me and untied her bikini top, uncovering her perfect breasts. I stared, completely captivated, and she laughed.

"I need to wash off this sunscreen. Are you coming?"

Oh, I was coming alright.

I followed her to the bathroom and lost the rest of the afternoon exploring her body, making her scream, over and over again. Eventually, panting and covered in sweat, she sat up in bed and smiled down at me.

"I need another shower. We told Tyrese we'd meet him for dinner."

I sat up and kissed her, trying to pull her down on top of me. "You told Tyrese we'd have dinner together."

She laughed, pushing away from me. "Dinner with Tyrese, I promise no more plans for the weekend."

"Promise?"

"Yes." She leaned down and kissed me quickly then stood. "Let's spend as much time in bed as possible this weekend. Deal?"

I raised an eyebrow. "If you mean sleeping, I might kill myself."

She laughed. "You know I don't. Go shower and come back to pick me up for dinner."

"Alright. And then my friends are on their own until we leave."

She laughed, "Why don't you just move your things in here?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Miss King, how forward," I used her line from before.

She came back towards me and knelt on the bed. "I've never done this before. So, if I'm screwing it up," she drifted off.

I sat up, cupping my hand on her cheek. "You're not. I don't really know what this is, but you're not doing it wrong."

I didn't know what was going on between us, but I wasn't going to hide in my room over it. Oh, hell no, I was going to spend as much time with her as I could and deal with the consequences on my flight home.

"Okay. Good. Because I'm trying really hard not to freak out that I just asked you to move into my hotel room."

"I won't. If you don't want me to."

"But I do. That's the problem." She laughed and kissed me. "Go shower and get your stuff, Big Papa."

I returned to my room and found Tyrese showered and ready to go and Abraham passed out on the bed.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Rosita went home."

"What? I thought she was here until Monday like we were?"

"Nope. They were here Saturday to Saturday. They had a four o'clock flight."

"Is he going to be okay?"

Tyrese shrugged. "I'm sure he'll meet someone at the bar tonight."

"Will you be pissed if I stay with Michonne for the weekend?"

He smiled. "Nah, man. You go."

Tyrese was an old soul, and he said so much with only a few words. I nodded. "I'm going to shower and then pack my stuff. Should we worry about him for dinner?" I angled my head towards the bed.

"No, you know him." Tyrese laughed. "He'll be ready to go when I get back from dinner."

Tyrese and I walked back to Michonne's room, and she greeted him like an old friend. She remembered Karen's name from my mentioning it and asked if Abraham was going to join us. I loved that she had really listened to me. It impressed the hell out of me actually and told me that she wasn't just in this for the moment. I wasn't sure what that meant, but I liked it.

Dinner continued in the same vein, with the three of us talking like we'd known each other forever. It helped that Michonne was a sports fan and could talk intelligibly about professional football and baseball. She said she didn't care much for hockey or basketball, but she knew a lot about them as well. When she excused herself to go to the restroom, Tyrese stared at me with a blank look on his face.

"If you don't marry her, I will."

"Karen won't be happy about that."

"Shit. Karen would marry this girl."

I laughed and caught a glimpse of Michonne smiling as she talked to the hostess. She glanced over and waved at me. I didn't want to think about going home.

As we finished our Mayan coffee, made with Kahlua, tequila, and rum, Tyrese excused himself to find Abraham. He'd texted that he was grabbing something to eat at the Palapa bar and wanted to go to the dance clubs in the Hotel Zone. They were going to take the bus or a cab into Cancún proper and then get an all you can drink wrist band at one of the clubs. Michonne recommended Coco Bongo or Congo Bar, but we assured her that Abraham would have researched where he wanted to go.

Michonne and I wandered leisurely down to the beach, watching the waves crash on the shore, and the moonlight cast shadows across the water and the sand. She took my hand and led me away from the lights of the resort. Eventually, we stood on the sand, with nothing but the moonlighting the area around us. She turned and slid her hands up my chest before putting her arms around me and looking into my eyes. My hands slid under her shirt, caressing her back. She stood on her toes and kissed me, softly at first, then urgently, until when she finally pulled away, we were breathing heavy and I wasn't sure we'd make it back to her room before I had to have her.

She looked up at me, and I felt like she was trying to see deeper into me, to see if I was feeling what she did. I gazed back, trying to send back the message that it was alright, that I felt it too, but there was no way to know that she understood without breaking the thick silence that surrounded us inside the crashing noise of the waves. She licked her lips and took a step backward. For a moment, I thought she was going to take her shirt off and let me have my way with her on the beach, but she exhaled and took my hand as she began walking at a much faster pace towards the resort.

Once we made it back to her room, our time together flew by as fast as a drunk Friday night. We fucked on every surface in her hotel room, on the patio, against the front door, and in the jacuzzi tub. We went to the beach for short periods of time, but couldn't seem to keep our hands off each other, so we went back to the room. We fell asleep wrapped together and sometimes still physically connected. We mostly ordered room service and she made us sandwiches a couple of times I was surprised that either of us was still walking after the workout we'd had together.

I didn't know about hers, but the battery on my phone had gone dead and her room phone had several voicemails. I was sure a couple was from Tyrese trying to find out that I hadn't been killed or kidnapped.

We were coming out of the shower after another mind-blowing round of sex when I heard someone knocking loudly on her door. I checked the peephole, and there was a very concerned looking Tyrese outside. I sighed and made sure Michonne was covered up before I opened the door.

"Mr. Williams," I said as I let him in.

"Mr. Grimes, good to see you're alive. Miss King, glad to see he hasn't killed you either."

I laughed. "Sorry. We've been a little busy. And when we weren't busy, we were asleep."

Michonne was in a robe drying her hair with a towel. "Is it time for you to leave already? How did that happen?"

Tyrese smiled. "Time flies when you're having fun. We'll need to head to the airport in a couple of hours."

"I'll meet you in the lobby at eleven."

"That's - two hours." He nodded. "Michonne, nice to meet you. Maybe I'll see you sometime?"

She smiled. "Maybe you will."

I closed the door behind him and ran my fingers through my hair before turning around. Two hours. When I finally turned around, Michonne had slipped on her bathing suit and was sitting on the patio. I moved outside, sitting behind her on the lounge chair and putting my arms around her.

"Wow. Two hours," she said quietly.

"Yeah," I whispered.

She turned into my arms, snuggling her head into the crook of my neck. She sighed. "We didn't talk about this."

"Nope. I think it's the only thing we didn't talk about."

"I'm done here in two weeks. Then I have to go back to New Orleans and unpack everything I've had in storage."

"And then?"

"I go back to the office and figure out where I'm working next."

I sighed.

She sat up; arms still draped around my neck.

"What if you stayed another week? You have your laptop. You can work online, make phone calls for anything that needs to get done."

"Are you serious?"

"I won't be at work the entire time." She laughed and kissed me, turning us so that she ended up straddling me on the lounge chair. "Go tell them you're staying."

"I've got two hours," I said between kisses.

Her hand slid down between us. "You have two minutes."

I threw my head back laughing, and then grabbed my cell phone to call Tyrese. "Adios and Vaya con Dios, amigo."

"What? Go with God where?" he laughed.

"You two go on home. I'm staying for another week. I'll call the airport and change my flight."

I assumed he covered the mouthpiece and was telling Abraham what was happening based on the murmuring. A second later Abraham was yelling into my ear.

"Are you fucking crazy, Rick? Pack your shit and let's go home."

"It's okay, Abe. I'll see you next week. Tell your dad I'll call him about the house."

"Rick!" he started, but I hung up.

Michonne grinned. "Now go get your ticket and call the airline."

"Why, my two minutes are up..?"

"Do you want to buy a whole new ticket? Or just pay to have it changed?" She raised an eyebrow.

I lifted her off of me, kissing her one more time. "Fine. I'm calling. You're the one that gave me a deadline of two minutes."

"That was for the first call!" She laughed.

The following Saturday, we sat on the patio once again, this time I was massaging her neck. We'd spent every moment she wasn't working together.

"Where did the time go?"

I leaned forward, holding her hair aside and kissing her neck. "I don't know," I whispered

"I want to come with you."

"Baby, I'll be in Atlanta when you get back to the states."

She leaned back against me. "That's in a whole week! Then I have to get my stuff together in New Orleans."

"If the alternative is never, I'll take it." I sighed. "I have to go back. I have a business to run. Big Papa needs to make money. Necesito dinero," I joked.

She laughed at my simple Spanish, then smacked my arm. "Yeah, you're going broke while your bar is open."

I laughed. "I have to go."

"I know. I'll walk you out to the taxi stand."

"No," I said quietly, cupping her cheek. "Let's not say goodbye with all the tourists and your staff watching. Okay?"

She nodded, with tears in her eyes. I'd been dreading the sight of those tears. We went inside, and I threw the last of my things into my bag. I pulled her into a hug, and we stood together, committing each other to memory. I was definitely going to have to get something coconut to smell in my office or I was going to go into withdrawal. We kissed one last time, and it would have been easy, so easy, for me to have taken her back to bed, but I stepped away and opened the door.

"Call me."

She nodded again; It was all she was capable of. I stood with my hand on the doorknob for a few seconds, forcing myself not to open the door and pull her back into my arms. But I didn't. I walked out of the hotel, waited for a taxi, and flew home.

A month later I was miserable and horrible to be around. I'd talked to her a couple of times, but it wasn't enough. Abraham and Tyrese had dragged me fishing, which I hated, but used as an excuse to drink beer.

My phone rang, and Abraham told me to ignore it because it was probably the bar. I flipped him off and answered the phone.

"Hello."

"I'm coming to Atlanta for work, and I need a place to stay."

I grinned like a fool. "You don't say?" She worked for a hotel chain; she didn't need anywhere to stay. I stretched out in a lawn chair onshore, sticking my toes in the red Georgia clay. Tyrese threw me a Budweiser and I leaned back, feeling the sun on my face.

Life is good.

* * *


End file.
